


If You're Coming My Way (Just Don't)

by DragonBandit



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drone Season 2015, Feelings, Light Dom/sub, M/M, POV Dirk Strider, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-07 00:26:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4242483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonBandit/pseuds/DragonBandit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Thanksgiving. Dirk is only here because Roxy begged him to come. He's just going to ignore everything and have fun with his two best friends. Ignore his broken heart and pretend that everything is alright. </p><p>Easier said than done once Jake English adds himself to the equation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You're Coming My Way (Just Don't)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Morkez](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morkez/gifts).



> Original prompt: They had a falling out. That was a few years ago. But after a while they couldn't bear to watch the other be with anybody else. -Morkez  
> I strayed from it a lot. I am sorry. Currently unedited.

TG: You promise this isn’t going to be weird?  
TG: Cause, jsyk this is kind of really important that u don’t like, ruin everything.  
TG: Again.  
TG: It’s srsly depressing I have to say again. like, really.  
TT: I get it. Since it means so much to you I won’t ruin our mandatory, once a year family dinner.  
TT: Again.  
TG: im holding you to that  
TT: Would you like me to pinky swear?  
TG: i would

Dirk regrets coming as soon as he steps out of the taxi and looks up at the large house that currently holds all of his relatives. This is a bad idea. No, worse. This is a terrible idea.

He’s been trying to avoid his family, not overdose on their frankly overbearing presence. If not for Roxy, Dirk wouldn’t have even thought of coming. Especially not here. Not now. He doesn’t need this.

But Roxy was Roxy, and she’d wore Dirk down with guilt and sad cat smileys and bad spelling until Dirk said he would come. Thanksgiving. The entire family. All crammed in a house that most definitely counts as extravagant just by the red sign indicating that it belongs to the Crocker family.

Maybe he can get by. Hide in the shadows and nod at Roxy and Jane when he passes them and avoid everyone else. There are already four family feuds in the given branches at any one time. No one is going to notice the fact that Dirk isn’t pulling the strings to simmer them down just enough to prevent them boiling over this year.

He’s only here for Roxy and Jane anyway. Why should he bother talking to anyone else? It’s not as if he will particularly be missed.

With that thought in mind, Dirk finds himself… well no one would call it a smile, but perhaps it could be termed a smirk. He has a plan now. Dirk has always felt more secure when he has a plan in place, and the means to carry it out.

The smirk falls off his face when Dirk goes to the room that has, according to a sheet of paper affixed to the front door, been assigned to him. Him, and one other person.

Shit.

This must be a mistake. It must be. Because the other name on the door is Jake English. Someone Dirk hasn’t talked to in a year.

He can feel his heart beating, and the air feels thinner, making him lightheaded with something Dirk clinically, distantly registers as panic. Pathetic.

Maybe he’ll get lucky. Maybe he’ll get lucky and the room will be empty. Jake gone away to adventure through the world. The note on the door simply a mistake. Nothing he has to be afraid of.

It’s with shaking fingers that Dirk opens the door to the room. It’s spacious, he’ll give it that. Not that he expected any less from a house owned by the woman he still refers to as the batterwitch when she’s not in earshot.

Two beds. Both identical with white sheets and light blue pillows. A decent sized window in the wall across from the door, and a wardrobe standing next to a table. Neither of which will get used in Dirk’s experience. There’s a door, leading to a bathroom if Dirk is correct in how the house has been laid out.

And standing in front of the window, next to one of the beds, the last person on Earth Dirk wants to see. Green eyes, black hair. Mouth curved up in an expression that makes Dirk’s heart hurt.

It’s not a mistake.

“Well, hello there,” says a voice that has haunted Dirk’s dreams.

He can’t do this. He can’t fucking do this. Not now, not here. Not ever. Dirk turns on his heel and walks out the door.

“You said I wouldn’t have to see him,” Dirk says, as soon as he finds the room Roxy (And Jane) are staying in. “You promised.”

Roxy smiles, hesitant in a way that Dirk doesn’t remember seeing before. “There was no where else for him to go?”

“Bullshit,” Dirk hisses. He crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at her. “This house is a barn filled with enough cows to ruin a pasture with enough shit to match. Why am I sharing a room?”

Roxy shrugs. Again making her body language open, in that careful way that Dirk knows she’s only doing to try and placate him. It makes his jaw clench, and the careful levels of fire in his stomach simmer.

“You were meant to share with your Bro.” she says.

“Bro wasn’t going to come.” Dirk says, swallowing the word obviously that wants to tack itself to the end.

“I know,” Roxy sighs, “I’m sorry I know this is totes unfair but he was kind of an unexpected arrival already and they didn’t know and I wasn’t here to explain.”

“So explain now. Make him go somewhere else.”

Judging by Roxy’s grimace, she’s already tried that.

“I’m really sorry.”

Dirk grimaces internally, feeling the muscles in his face move minutely. Certainly not enough for anyone on the outside to tell that his expression has changed at all. “It’s fine.” He says.

“It is?” Roxy’s says, with an air of hope that makes Dirk want to stab something.

“Yes. I’ll just go home today.”

Her face falls. Dirk tries not to feel horribly guilty about that. He fails miserably.

“I can’t share a room with him,” Dirk repeats. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”  
“So you’re going to run away like the coward you are,” a voice says, from behind him. Dirk wheels around to meet the narrowed eyes of Jane trained on him. Jane who Dirk hasn’t actually spoken to properly since his life went to hell. He’d been hoping to avoid this conversation too. “Hello Dirk,” she says.

“Jane.”

He eyes her behind the safety of his shades. She’s gotten sterner since he last saw her. Hands on her hips and feet apart like she’s auditioning for Wonder Woman and Dirk is the grade C baddie that she’s been forced to read his rights to.

She softens however, when she turns to Roxy. Smile lighting up her entire face. Like she used to look at Dirk. Before. “Roxy it’s been forever since I saw you in person. Did you dye your hair?”

“OMG it’s been weeks!! And I did, there’s this great place by my campus and I had a voucher and thought, why not you know?”

Just like that Dirk is forgotten about. Left out of the conversation by virtue of them leaving no pauses for him to interject. Not that Dirk wants to be involved. Obviously he’s chopped liver to the sugar and spice that make up the everything nice of their friendship group. If he even can still claim it to be his friendship group at all.

They don’t need him. It would be best if he left now. Before he ruins everything.

He’s halfway to the door, passing by Jane with room to spare when she grabs onto his wrist. “Where do you think you’re going? I’m not done with you yet, silly!” She’s smiling.

Weirdly, that’s what makes Dirk’s hackles, raised since he looked into forest green eyes, finally lower.

“You could always like, sleep on the floor of our room,” Roxy says three hours later. Bubblegum pink hair brushing the floor where she’s draped herself spread-eagled, head pointing to the ground.

Jane snorts, “My Dad would kill him.”

“With a safe,” Dirk adds from where he’s carefully adding red sequins to Jane’s black nails. “Or perhaps that book Jane keeps threatening to make us read.”

“I do not keep threatening to make you read Colonel Sassacre’s Daunting Text of Magical Frivolity and Practical Japery.” Jane protests.

“You would if you could carry it everywhere,” Dirk says.

Jane raises her eyebrows skywards. “I’ll have you know I can carry three volumes of the tome with no trouble.”

“Pics or it didn’t happen,” Roxy says.

“Why on earth would I have pictures?”

Roxy just giggles. Dirk and Jane share an eye roll, though how Jane can tell considering Dirk’s eyes are safely hidden by shades he will never figure out. She’s always been able to do that. Dirk forgot. How could he have forgotten that?

He concentrates harder on the nails he’s decorating. They’re passable; it’s been a long time since he’s painted nails, let alone with the more complicated application of glitter and sequins. Jane’s nails had demanded he use both. They match her glasses, not her eyes. Blood red and black, true Crocker colours.

He’s not entirely sure how he got here. Painting nails while Roxy hangs off the bed and Jane smiles encouragingly at him. He forgot he was friends with them, outside of the internet where they can see who he is for real. Without a mask to hide behind. And he forgot just how much Jane is willing to scold him for not talking to her.

He’s promised to unblock her. She forgives him for blocking her in the first place.

It feels almost natural now. Like it’s before.

“Seriously though,” Roxy says as she swings herself back upright. “You’re not just gonna leave now are you?”

Dirk doesn’t answer for a long while. Too busy putting the final touches on Jane’s pinky. Deliberating what to say.  “I can’t share a room with him.”

“Why not?” Jane says, “He was your best friend.”

“Was,” Dirk says. He hands Jane her hands back, “I wrecked that relationship too badly for it to be restored.”

Roxy hums. In a manner that Dirk can’t tell is agreeing or not. Nor is he sure whether he cares. It was his mess, it’s still his mess. He doesn’t need them to get involved, nor does want them to.

“You can’t go home,” Roxy says, “I miss you.”

“I do as well,” Jane adds. She waves her nails, “I haven’t had this good a manicure since Christmas.”

Dirk’s lips quirk up. “Well ladies, if that’s how you feel,” he drawls playing up the slight Texan he’s managed to retain for all it’s worth.

Roxy hugs him before he can continue, “Yes! Score!”

“You do realise I could be saying thanks but no thanks, and getting ready to get the next taxi out of here right?”

“You wouldn’t do that!”

“You can’t do that,” Jane says, “None of the companies will pick you up from here at this time of a night.”

“It’s barely seven.” Dirk says.

“Nine,” Jane smiles, “Time flies when you’re having fun doesn’t it?”

Dirk glances at the clock on the bedside table next to the bed they're all sitting on. It looks subtly out of place, with it’s cheery cats painted on the sides while numbers tick past, bright pink in twentyfour hour time.

2100\. Just about, close enough that Dirk ignores the exact minutes. Huh.

“Now you have to stay,” Roxy says, still draped over him.

“So I do,” Dirk says, and he feels the corner of his mouth quirking into a smile, even as his stomach clenches at the thought of being in the same room as him for any amount of time. Especially to sleep in. “Just for tonight.”

Judging by the way Roxy nuzzles at him, she doesn’t hear the end of that quiet murmur. Good.

He’s already ruined enough.

Roxy disentangles herself from his lap just long enough to pull Jane into the hug as well. There’s a yelp of “Roxy my nails!” and a bright, clear laugh that Dirk has missed hearing.

“If I have to redo those nails someone is going to pay,” Dirk says.

He does. When they untangle there’s a bright smear of red across his shirt and Roxy’s back from both of Jane’s hands.

Dirk doesn’t give a shit.

 

He’s halfway through repainting Jane’s nails (orange this time, with pink stripes) when Jake walks through the door. Dirk’s back is to it, he doesn’t notice who it is until he hears that is far too cheerful for it’s own good say, “Ah so that’s where you all have been hiding all day,”

Jane’s middle finger gains an orange streak all up the first knuckle. Dirk’s entire body turns into a statue of carefully blank body language. It’s more telling than if he had burst into tears. He doesn’t turn around.

Jane carefully pulls her hands away from Dirk’s still hands, “Yes, we’re here. I’m sorry I’ve been unpacking still and haven’t had time to see everyone.”

It’s a lie. She’s spent the entire day on Roxy’s temporary bed gossiping like a preteen girl with seventeen crushes. School and work and the latest paparazzi assassination attempt. Trading quips back and forth with Roxy who talks a mile a minute at the best of times.

“Not to worry,” Jake says, and Dirk doesn’t need to turn around to know that the idiot is grinning all across his face. “I’ve found you now haven’t I?”

Yes, yes he has and Dirk feels bits of his heart turn brittle like ice. There’s an odd tension falling in the room now. It’s his fault. He’s the one that made it awkward, that couldn’t deal with it. There’s a hollow feeling in his stomach, and a dull ringing in his ears.

“Soooo,” Roxy says, elongating the word by a ridiculous amount, “What made you change your mind about coming? Cause like, I love you and all and totally glad you’re here but it was seriously last notice.”

“Nothing really. Just felt like it was a good time to visit the great old US of A.” Jake says. Dirk feels him settle on the bed. On the corner nearest where Jane’s folded her legs under and to the side.

The edge of his leg falls in the corner of Dirk’s vision, fixed on the bed like an idiot. He shifts his gaze just enough to not see it.

“Thanksgiving merely being a highlight then?” Jane says archly. “Why I do believe I feel insulted”

“No no, I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Then how did you mean it?”

Jake stutters through his apology, words tumbling out in an order that barely makes sense. So busy trying to make amends that he isn’t thinking about what he’s saying. Resulting in a mess that makes Jane and Roxy burst into laughter. Dirk feels the corner of his lip quirk up before he smothers the expression in apathy.

“OMG, she’s just teasing Jake!” Roxy cackles.

“I knew that!”

“Course you did.” She leans over to push Jake playfully on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, no one’s really mad at you.”

Dirk begs to disagree. He keeps his mouth shut.

“How long are you staying in the country for this time?” Jane asks. Her hand ends up under Dirk’s nose, carefully laid on the comforter in such a way that the half finished nails are no where near the pristine sheets. Dirk can take a hint. He cleans off the mistake of orange and starts applying nail polish again.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Jake says, “I haven’t bought a return ticket so I’m here as long as I can afford to be.”

“So you’re finally going the tourist route,” Dirk says, startled slightly by the sound of his own voice. There’s a slight pause, obviously no one else expected him to speak either.

“I suppose I am.” Jake says, and once again Dirk can see the smile without looking. That insufferable smile made out of more rainbows than a leprechaun could stock with gold at the ends of. The one that made Dirk’s heart sing and his toes curl until he had no choice but to kiss it off Jake’s face and replace it with something else.

Jane’s nail ends up a with a coat a little thicker than the one before it.

“What is it that tourists usually do in this country?”

“Make mad memories,” Roxy contributes. “Visit all the big cities and buy everything. New York is always cool near Xmas, you could stay with me!”  
Jake laughs, “If you’ll have me,”

“I just said I would.”

The orange is done, painted subpar, Dirk switches colours, hot pink,  Jane switches hands, the nails on this one already dry.

“In the meantime there’s always the rest of the country to explore,” Jane says, “I’ve always been fond of Florida myself.”

Dirk snorts, “You hated Florida.”

“I liked some of it.”

“And the rest of the time you complained about the humidity.” He tilts his head at Jake, still not able to actually look at him, “Only go to Florida if you like Mosquitos, Swamps and other tourists.”

“Sounds like home,” Jake says, “Except for the tourists.”

“If your island had tourists I would laugh forever, ngl,” Roxy grins.

“We always get the odd research company wanting to take a look at the creatures. They’re almost a different breed of tourist.”

“No way,” Roxy says.

“Would I pull your leg?”

“Right,” Roxy props her head up on her hands, fingers crosses to make a bridge for her chin, “I demand story time.”

“Well it started with a goat, a whole bucket of feathers, and someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer…” Jake starts

 

It’s a long and sordid tale, and by the end of it Jake has everyone in tears of laughter. Well, Jane and Roxy, Dirk allows himself a smirk to chip through his poker face.

He feels, different. Lighter than he was. It’s almost like they're still friends. Somewhere, in the strange alternate universe of Jane and Roxy’s hotel room. The four of them meeting up for every big family event and raising hell the way only four kids of a similar age could.

Their guardians being boring adults, and them exploring lost worlds and amassing mountains of treasure.

The story feels like that. That lost time before Dirk ruined everything. The hole in his heart aches. Dirk ignores it.

He’s busy pretending that he’s fine. That he’s always been fine and that he isn’t constantly suppressing the urge to reach out and tangle Jake’s fingers in his own. Like he used to. Before this. Before everything.

They’d been dating so long. If it weren’t for the scars Dirk would have forgotten that they aren’t.

Nevermind the fact that Dirk still can’t look directly at him.

For most of the story he stays quiet, unlike Roxy who begs for more details every time Jake pauses, and Jane’s skepticism when something unbelievable happens to Jake, or the hapless scientist who really wasn't cut out for field work.

He doesn’t remember if this was his usual role, quiet and unassuming making just enough comments to still feel included, still part of the group. It’s been months. Time flies when you’re picking your heart off the ground.

He finishes Jane’s nails about three quarters through the story, just when Jake is getting to the climax. Pink stripes vivid against the orange in a way that clashes horribly. He leans back, propping himself up on the palms of his hands, and arches back to work out the kinks in his back made from being hunched over for so long.

Jake falters in his epic tale. And Dirk, stupidly, forgetting everything in the half second where his back clicks, looks over at Jake. There’s the intention to goad him into carrying on, or to ask what’s made him so distracted he’s lost the thread somewhere in the back of Dirk’s mind. But then he meets Jake’s gaze.

Green eyes, wide and pupils just a fraction dilated. Mouth open just a little and Dirk remembers that Jake has never been good at hiding his emotions. Especially not the ones that appear on his face.

And that’s not fair. The universe is not playing fair right now because Dirk recognises that look. Recognises it from months of trying to get it appear on Jake’s face.

That’s the look that Jake gets when he’s turned on. And he’s looking at Dirk. Like he wants him.

The world falls away. Until it’s just big enough for Dirk, and Jake. And that look. That terrible, wonderful look that’s making Dirk’s heart skip beats and speed up, and his breath catch in his throat. Makes him lean a little closer like he’s an iron filing and Jake is the strongest magnet in the room. Drawn inexorably forwards until he touches.

Except Jane coughs, and Dirk is dragged back into reality. Where Jake hates him and he can’t have Jake, and doesn’t want to have him in the first place.

It’s wrong. the reality is wrong, it’s made up inside Dirk’s head and he can’t keep it there when that look is still trained on him even though Jake obviously has no idea that he’s making it. He can’t stay here. Not with that look, not when his entire soul is screaming at him to grab Jake’s hair and kiss him. damn the consequences, damn everything just for one last kiss--

Dirk stands from the bed. “I need to go.” He says. He doesn’t look back when he gets to the door. Too busy ripping it open to escape. He’s not running, but it’s a near thing.

 

“Dirk?” Jake says outside of the door belonging to the bedroom that Dirk is currently hiding in. “Dirk please let me in.”

Dirk doesn't answer. Too busy emulating a hermit given orders by god to never interact with another human being again. He’s lying on the bed, phone held in front of him as he flicks through apps to try to find one taxi stupid enough to traverse the winding roads this late at night.

He doesn’t find one. Of course he doesn’t. The universe hates him and always has. The more rational part of Dirk’s brain points out that it’s more to do with the fact that the roads here are so treacherous that that not even the locals trust their knowledge, let alone a taxi driver who would have to come from the next town over.

Why they always pick to have thanksgiving here, Dirk does not know.

“Look, old pal I think we got off on the wrong foot here.” Is there a right foot anymore for Jake to talk to him? Dirk isn’t sure. “But I would really like to talk to you face to face right now and not through this door.”

He isn’t going to go away. Doesnt matter how much Dirk wants him to Jake’s always been stubborn. Too stubborn for his own good. Especially now.   
“I know that you aren’t willing to forgive me yet. But I would like to at least talk to you. As friends? Please?”

Again Dirk doesn’t respond. Maybe if he stays silent long enough Jake will get the fucking hint. Unlikely.

Proven when Jake continues to monologue like he’s a Bond villain in the third act of his two hour movie. Does he really think that if he rehashes their old argument Dirk will just magically forgive him for everything?

Does Dirk’s heart really think that’s a viable option?

He hates this. Hates the way Jake’s voice is so fucking earnest in its apologies. And how Dirk’s heart skips beats every time Jake’s voice cracks on tears.

The phone still held above Dirk’s head goes into standby. Dirk doesn’t flick the screen back on.

It’s a loop now. Jake on one side of the door and Dirk on the other. Silence and meaningless noise. Like some bad track on some ancient mixtape skipping on a dodgy walkman. Electrical tape wearing thin enough that sooner or later it’s going to snap in half.

Dirk doesn’t know how he gets from staring at a blank screen to staring at the top of Jake’s head.

“I’m still angry at you.” He says, cursing himself for giving in. “I’m pissed, and I’m always going to be. So just give up and leave me the hell alone.” His eyes stay fixedly at the wall a foot to the left of Jake’s head.

“Dirk.” Jake says softly.

He isn’t falling for that again. “No. Just-- No.” He can feel his poker face falling. Sorrow and rage and the mix of emotions that Dirk can only term as heartbreak all warring on his face. Like they have been since the last time they had this fight.

“I made a mistake,” Jake says. Dirk flinches. Jake steps forwards, and he’s too close. In Dirk’s personal space until he can smell the rain forest clinging to Jake’s clothes. Jake’s left hand settles on Dirk’s face. A brand touching his skin. “Please let me fix it.”

He should say no. Refuse everything and step back. Slam the door in Jake’s face and go back to pretending that this isn’t a problem. He inches closer. Head tilting into the touch. This close it’s an effort to not meet Jake’s eyes.

He makes the effort. If he sees green he’s lost.

“What do you want?” Dirk bites out. His voice is almost gone. Lost to the tension that loads the air before a thunderstorm that’s just waiting for the lightning to strike.

“Well, I’d like to know what exactly it is that made you stop talking to me.”

Dirk snorts, “You know what you did,”

“No. I don’t. You never told me. You just said you wanted to stop dating and then you vanished off the face of the earth.” Jake’s thumb caresses the skin near Dirk’s nose, “I came here to make amends.”

Of course. This is making amends. Grabbing Dirks’ heart and tearing it into pieces simply by existing. He opens his mouth, about to put that into words.

“No. If you talk you’ll twist everything.” Jake says, and his hand moves to place his forefinger over Dirk’s lips, “Please just listen to me for once?”

All Dirk can do is nod. He’d be an asshat if he did anything else. And then Roxy and Jane would murder him with heavy books written by their ancestors.

Jake heaves in a breath. “I had thought that we could go back to being friends,” he says, “if that was what you wanted of me. We were friends once, right?”

Dirk has to force himself not to look down. Into green, green, damnable green. If he looks he’s lost and he is determined not to lose. Not again.

Jake continues on. And this time it doesn’t all fade into white noise. “I’m starting to think that’s not possible. And,” his voice falters, “You don’t want me to be your friend do you? You want.. Dirk you looked at me like…”

The tension peaks. A crescendo of silence that swallows everything. The last of Jake’s sentence hanging in the air like a promise. Dirk’s heart pounds in this throat.

“Please look at me.” Jake whispers into the void.

Dirk does.

Jake gasps, a barely there puff of air. He reaches up, taking the arms of Dirk’s shades in trembling fingers, an unspoken question that Dirk can’t say no to. Already he’s lost in green, staring down into want and kindness and another emotion that Dirk refuses to place now.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I--” Dirk bites at his lip. Before he says something incriminating. There’s a speech here, one that he’s rehearsed over and over in the privacy of his head. One where he cuts all ties. Wrenches his heart back and clutches it to his chest and never lets it back into someone else's hands ever again. It’s not safe, it’s not for him. He ruins it all just by existing.

It’s very hard to remember the speech when Jake’s looking at him with wide eyes that have the beginnings of tears in the corners of them. There’s an echo of anger at that--Jake isn’t the one who should be crying about all of this.

Mostly though, Dirk just feels sad, and lonely, and wanting.

“I want you back.” He doesn’t mean to say it. It slips out from his heart with no consultation from his brain on whether that was what was the plan. He’d take it back but that would be lying, and it’s hard to lie when he’s still trapped in Jake’s eyes.

Jake kisses him. Just leans up and brushes their lips together. Incredibly chaste and almost exactly like the first kiss they shared.

The pieces of Dirk’s heart still left shatter into a hundred thousand pieces.

Dirk ignores it. It’s a stupid idea, a stupid decision but Dirk would be the first to point out that he isn’t exactly the most reasonable when faced with the summer storm that is Jake English. He tilts his head, and kisses back.

Dirk’s eyes fall closed, losing himself on the feel of Jake. He’s spent months wanting. Wanting but not allowing himself to think of it. It was something for the past, but now it’s here. Jake in his arms and still not close enough.

Jake nibbles on his lips, little bites and Dirk grants him entrance without thinking. Opening his mouth as he wraps his arms around Jake’s shoulders like that will make him stay. Keep him here and for Dirk forever.

It’s over faster than Dirk wants, and he follows Jake’s lips down until he’s captured them again. He gets a laugh for that, startled out of Jake’s mouth like sunlight through trees.

“Dirk,” Jake says, “Dirk we should probably stop and talk about this.”

Dirk hums in disagreement. As soon as they talk he’ll have to think. Have to end this again. Have to force himself to ignore how much he wants. He snags Jake’s lip in between his teeth and sucks, drawing out a moan.

“Dirk--” There’s a hitch in Jake’s voice when he frees his lips again. He doesn’t get to say any more. Words smothered in another searing kiss. Jake moans again and this is such a fucking terrible idea.

Dirk pushes their bodies together. As close as he can and rolls his hips in an action that can’t be misinterpreted. Jake makes a choked sound.

The next thing Dirk knows he’s being pulled back by his hair. Sensation making him arch and a breathless moan escaping his chest. Jake steps further into his personal space, enough that it’s easy for Dirk to tilt his hips forwards again.

“No.” Jake says.

A switch in Dirk’s head flips off. Or maybe it’s on. It makes him whine breathlessly and nod, motion making his hair pull against Jake’s fist.  He goes still. Instantly deferring to Jake’s want. Caught in his grip like a bad puppy caught finding where they hide the treats.

He wants he needs he doesn’t even know anymore. Dirk is the king of bad decisions and he doesn’t give a fuck.

“Do you want to do this?” Jake asks.

“Yes,” Dirk says, instant and unthinking. Isn’t it obvious how much he wants this? Wants to get this over with? Except that isn’t right, even if he isn’t willing to admit it to himself. This isn’t something he wants to just get over.

Jake huffs a sigh. “How long?”

“Since I stopped speaking to you.” Dirk flinches as the truth spills out. He hadn’t even thought to suppress it. His eyes screw up. Agony roiling in his gut as he waits for Jake to leave. Call him pathetic, order him to get a life and once again Dirk will be left wanting and waiting for something he can’t have.

Jake doesn’t say anything for a long time. The seconds dragging out into moments. Beats in a movie script that drag on Dirk’s heart more painfully than the hold Jake has on his hair.

“Consarn it, Dirk.” Jake says very softly. He doesn’t let go of Dirk’s hair, instead using it as a handle to tilt Dirk’s head down. “Open your eyes.”

Dirk obeys.

“We are going to talk about this,” Jake says.

“Can we do it after?”

Jake should say no. Dirk expects him to say no. To let go of this entire thing and just leave. Like any sane person still left with half a brain would do.

He watches Jake’s face flicker. Worry, lust,  guilt, happiness, fear, want, before it goes carefully blank and Jake sighs heavily. He’s smiles. Careful in a way that makes Dirk think of glass figurines.

“Let’s get inside.”

As soon as Jake closes the door Dirk attacks him. Shoves him against the wood and kisses up Jake’s jaw line like he’s dying for it. Jake gasps out a curse, something old timey and ridiculous that makes Dirk smirk.

Thinking is for losers.

He braces his hands against the door, trapping Jake between his body and bites down on the skin above the hinge of Jake’s jaw. One of Dirk’s legs slips between Jake’s and up, pressing against the already hard line of Jake’s cock.

Jake moans, cants his hips upwards and tilts his head to the side. He’s all red, flush running from his cheeks to his ears. He’s gorgeous. Dirk is going to ruin him.

He bites down again, harder, enough to leave a mark. Smiles harshly as Jake’s hips stutter up into his own.

He’s being rough, fast. Not giving Jake time to do anything more than react. Dirk kisses him, open mouthed and wanting. Swallowing Jake’s moans beneath hungry lips. Losing himself in the gasps and Jake’s rolling hips.

Jake keeps trying to say something. Mumbles it against Dirk’s lips, but he doesn't want to hear it. Doesn’t want to know what’s so important that it has to be uttered. It could just be curses, or Dirk’s name, over and over again. Or someone else's. But Dirk’s not thinking about that.

He’s thinking about how easy it would be to just drop to his knees and take Jake into his throat.

He’s done it before. A lifetime ago. Mouthed at Jake’s cock until he could work it down all the way, nose pressed to the flat plane of Jake’s stomach. Rain and dirt and sweat filling his senses as he’d swallowed around Jake’s length. Listening to the filthy things coming out of Jake’s mouth and wanting more, more of all of it until Jake shuddered through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

Dirk wants.

The kiss deepens, Jake tilting his head into it. All breathy gasps and the filthy slide of wet lips tugged between teeth. He’s on his tiptoes, Dirk realises as the difference in their two heights decreases by a good few inches. Just enough for Jake to get the kind of leverage he needs to take control. He’s no longer grinding into Dirk’s thigh. Instead arching back and up.

The angle of the kiss changes, enough to make Dirk gasp. Loss of power sending a throb through his whole body.

“Jake,” And it’s a whimper. A mindless beg for something, anything. Swallowed into the kiss as Jake wraps one hand around Dirk’s wrist, fingers sliding below the long sleeves of his hoodie, and pulls it away from the door. Dirk lets him, can’t not. Not when Jake strokes his fingers up the inside of Dirk’s arm where his pulse is racing faster than a comet.

Sparks fly up Dirk’s nerves from every brush of skin. Firing neurons that go every which way until Dirk moans.

Jake breaks the kiss then. Free hand going up to bury itself in Dirk’s hair, stopping him from moving. Dirk makes a needy sound, a high whine in the back of his throat.

“I’ve got you,” Jake says. His voice sounds wrecked. Hoarse from kissing and an undercurrent of something like he’s almost in pain. It makes Dirk slide his eyes open. Look down at Jake in confusion.

Jake swallows audibly. “I’d rather we we do this on the bed.” He brushes at the skin above the bones in Dirk’s wrist. “I expect you want me above you right now.”

The words are static. scrambled up in Dirk’s brain to their individual components. Order and suggestion mixing up into the same thing. He jerks his head in a nod, breath hitching as the motion tugs at his hair. His eyes shutter closed.

Jake lets go, freeing Dirk’s head. He guides him backwards, hand on his shoulder to direct Dirk until his knees hit the edge of the mattress. He lets himself get folded backwards, perpendicular to the length of the bed. His feet hang off the edge.

But then for a moment he’s lost. Jake suddenly gone from around his wrist and shoulder, the heat of his body against Dirk’s front. It’s only for a second but Dirk’s too far gone not to hide the panicked, wordless noise that bubbles out of his throat.

“I’m here,” Jake’s voice says, and there’s a hand between his legs, palming Dirk’s cock through his jeans, “open your eyes.”

Dirk does. Drinking in the image of Jake standing over him, shirtless now and the top button of his slacks opened, belt hanging loose. He makes Dirk’s mouth water, lean muscles and tan skin from living on an island in the middle of nowhere. Chest hair dark and in thick curls before it smooths into a line that runs down his stomach before thickening again just before Jake’s boxers cover his hips. They’re tented. A damp patch right at the tip.

Dirk whines. He reaches out, fingertips just managing to graze Jake’s shoulder. Jake smiles at him, taking Dirk’s hand and twining their fingers together. He squeezes at Dirk’s erection slightly, laughing as Dirk curses and bucks upwards as the touch overloads him.

“I’m right here,” Jake soothes. He teases at the bones on the back of Dirk’s hand, sending fire up his arm and through his body. Just the simple point of contact enough to make Dirk’s head spin.

It’s been a long time. And he missed this.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Jake says, before he leans down and captures Dirk’s mouth in a kiss.

It’s a pretty lie, Dirk thinks through the haze. He wishes it was true.

Jake doesn’t stay at his lips for long. Instead nips and kisses his way down Dirk’s body. Each touch another sparking flare of electricity. His eyes fall closed again, overloaded as Jake fumbles with the zipper of Dirk’s hoodie, and then pushes his shirt up with one hand to lap at his nipples. His other massages at Dirk through jean fabric that is slowly moving to the wrong side of tight.

It doesn’t stop him from rocking up into the touch. Whining and half words falling from his lips as Jake licks and curls his tongue around Dirk’s hardened nipples.

“Jake” Dirk says, pleading, begging for more. He’s on fire. Lit up from the inside, every one of the places Jake has touched another point of searing light on the heat map that is Dirk’s body. “Please I--”  
“What do you need?”

Words are hard. Especially when Jake is biting on the bottom of his ribcage. Sucking the delicate skin into his mouth before moving on and repeating the action lower down on his stomach.  Dirk’s going to be covered in hickeys tomorrow. He can’t put enough braincells together to care.

“Dirk tell me.”

“I-- my pants I need-- Jake. You please I need…” He trails off, frustrated at how he can’t string anything together in an order that makes sense. He ends up growling, shoving at his waistband in the hopes he can telegraph his needs through the disorganised motions.

“It’s okay,” Jake says, hand stilling to pin Dirk’s arms down to the bed. “Let’s get these off you.”

He pushes Dirk’s jeans down his hips, off his legs where they tangle in shoes. Dirk makes a frustrated sound, kicking futilely at his heels until Jake helps the entire mess of fabric fall to the ground.

“Oh Dirk,” Jake breathes.

Dirk looks at him, looks down his body to find Jake kneeling between his legs, something like worship reflected in the wide green eyes.

“I could sit here all day and just stare at you,” Jake continues.

“You better not,” Dirk says, stimulation gone and wit returning in fractions.

Jake hums, he reaches up to curl his hand around Dirk’s wrist. “Why? Is there something you want?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

Jake tilts his head to the side, like he’s considering it, before he slowly shakes his head, nails digging just slightly into Dirk’s wrist.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, sweetheart. Not without lube which I certainly neglected to pack this morning.”

Dirk huffs. He’s not going to argue with that, but a piece of him sings with the want of it. A harmony in the symphony that is Dirk’s need for Jake’s touch on him. Anywhere, in whatever way he can get. It’s too difficult for Dirk to unpack that into reasonable demands, so he doesn’t bother to try.

“Want you,” It’s petulant, just a little. Any other time Dirk would wince at the loss of self control. Right now though he’s too far away to care, riding on the high that is Jake English.

Jake laughs, caresses Dirk’s wrist. “I’m here.” He lifts himself up, head bobbing down to breathe hotly on the head of Dirk’s dick, “Is this to your liking, Strider?”

Dirk bucks up, head tilting back and his eyes closing in pleasure. His hands curl into fists, creasing the bedsheets at either side. “Oh fuck please.”

Heat envelops him. Jake mouths at his cock with wet lips, playing with the head until Dirk whines in frustration, thrusting into the promise that is Jake’s mouth. He’s leaking, precum beading out of tip. Jake’s tongue flicks out to lap it up. Sudden wet muscle dipping into Dirk’s slit.

He moans. Loud. Meaningless babble falling out of him. Begging and pleading and not enough thought put into the words. Dirk has no idea what he’s saying anymore. He should be terrified by this. He’s too busy begging for Jake’s mouth to be.

Jake’s laughing. Vibrations humming through Dirk’s body in sparks and waves. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs as he licks a stripe up the underside of Dirk's’ cock, “All laid out for me. Do you want me to take you fully? Let you fuck my throat?”

Dirk nods. More to the sound of Jake asking him than taking in the words. He lets out a shocked gasp when Jake’s lips slide down his length. Can’t stop hips from stuttering up slightly before he remembers to keep them still. To wait for Jake to tell him to move.

It doesn’t take long. Except in Dirk’s head where it might as well be an age. Shivers run up and down his spine, minute tremors telegraphing the effort of staying still. Of not driving his hips up into the wet heat.

He’s moaning. Jake’s name and curses and the word please. Over and over begging to be allowed to move.

Jake bobs his head, signalling permission.

Dirk moves.

He moans at the sensation of Jake around him, Jake’s own muffled moans running through him. Tight and fever hot, muscles swallowing around him, drawing him deeper down Jake’s throat even as Dirk thrusts messily back and forth.

It’s too much. Fire arcing through his body. And it’s been too long, months since he had anyone’s touch on him but himself.

“Jake,” Dirk slurs, “Gonna come--- please, Jake, gonna--”

His already unco-ordinated thrusts get ever worse. Losing all sense of rhythm as his body chases what all of this has been leading up to. Release.

Except then Jake is pulling off. bottom lip scraping up Dirk’s length and being replaced with the firm pressure that can only be Jake’s hand wrapping around the base. “I didn’t say you could come yet.”

Dirk groans. His hips roll upwards in protest but then Jake is suddenly over him, pressing him down into the mattress.

“Please.”

“Look at me.” Jake orders.

Dirk opens his eyes, and he’s caught in green. Everything goes still. Fades away. His desire and need floating away, not needed in this place where only Jake’s eyes exist. If he reaches he can feel them, the ache in his lower stomach, the coiling heat of it all. But it’s distant, trapped under Jake’s hands. The noise that comes out of his lungs is something like a whimper. And something like a prayer

“What do you want Dirk?”

“I want to come.”

Jake sighs, softly. Dirk cringes, just a little. He picked the wrong answer, can feel in in the way Jake’s eyes dim just a little. Guilt floods through him. He’d avert his eyes, but they’re trapped. Stuck in the judgement of green.

“I meant what do you want from this at all.” Jake says softly, “What is this to you Dirk?”

Dirk opens his mouth, intending to lie. “I want you to love me.” He flinches. Body seizing up in terror. He hadn’t meant to say that. He hadn’t meant to think that.

He screws his eyes up. In denial of this reality and wishes he had the ability to turn back time, or travel so he could punch his past self for ever thinking this was a viable option, that he could get through this without doing something so fucking stupid.

Jake’s going to leave now. Realise what a fucking, broken mess Dirk is. Not worth even a slightest seconds worth of attention. He’s ruined this again. It hurts. Tears in his soul, holes big enough to bleed into each other now.

It’s just a matter of time before Jake gets off him and takes Dirk’s heart with him when he walks out of the door.

There’s the press of lips against his forehead, his cheeks, his mouth. Dirk doesn’t understand.

“I do love you,” Jake says. Gentle in a way that reminds Dirk of clouds.

Dirk makes a hurt noise, disbelieving.

“I do.” Jake’s fist moves up Dirk’s cock. Slow and reverent. “Look at me, Dirk. I love you so much. My heart’s yours. I love you so fucking much.”

It’s the words more than the friction that make Dirk arch up and come. Tension drawn up like a bowstring and then suddenly cut. The puppet that is Dirk’s body collapsing against the bedsheets. He’s dimly aware of Jake still above him, through the haze of misfiring neurons and the overload of orgasm.

Jake’s hand petting his hair, his lips kissing gently at Dirk’s throat. His weight resting comfortably on top of Dirk. It’s weird; he feels safe like this.

He can’t remember why that’s weird.

They do talk about it, later. Dirk hiding his face in the broad expanse of Jake’s chest. He’s still dizzy from coming, from going down so far into himself and revealing everything. Jake hasn’t left yet though. Dirk supposes that counts for something.

“I’m sorry,” he says at the same time that Jake says, “What made you think I didn’t love you?”

Dirk bites his lip, he doesn’t want to say it. There’s still a part of him wishing that at the end of this it would all just be over, a forgotten memory, a bad dream. Not his heart once again on the line. The things getting score marks from the wire.

“I saw you.” He says into Jake’s chest. “With someone else and I--” his voice cracks. “I wanted you to be mine. I thought you were mine.”

He feels the slight pressure of a kiss that Jake drops into his hair. “There’s no one else,” Jake says, “You must have made a mistake.” he laughs, a short chuckle, “I could have told you this months ago.”

“but I saw you.” Dirk insists, “You were kissing him and-- he, he looked at me. He knew what I was thinking. He smirked at me, Jake.”

There’s a long silence. Dirk chews his lip into a bloody shred. This is it. This is his heart broken again. Officially. Forever.  

“Did he have really red cheeks?” Jake says very softly.

Dirk screws up his eyes, nods.

He feels more than hears the hitch of Jake’s breath. “That was Cal.”

Dirk doesn’t care about the name, “You let him kiss you.”

“No! No I didn’t!” Jake shifts, just enough that Dirk’s looking into his eyes, “You have to believe me, okay?”

“I saw it.”

“Well. I-- He kissed me, but I didn’t want him to.” Jake says in a rush of words, “He’d followed me around all summer and every time I tried to tell him I already had a boyfriend he wouldn’t listen. I ended up showing him a picture of you-- he must have…”

“Used it against you.”

It makes sense. In that twisted way that things tend to do when they’re shown in retrospect. Like the fact Jake sucks at keeping secrets, always has been, especially from Dirk. And how they’d been talking only a few hours before, phones buzzing with texts about all the things they planned to do.

GT: I think a good makeout is in order, don’t you?  
TT: Well if that’s what the doctor’s ordering.

After he hadn’t even let Jake explain. He’d just blocked him, convinced it was his fault somehow. That he’d done something wrong in their relationship to make Jake seek the arms of another.

But if it was someone else. A horrible terrible mistake...

Dirk grabs at Jake. “You’re mine,” he says, doesn’t like the desperation in his voice, the marker that he’s still submitting just a little. There’s tears at the corner of his eyes, mourning the time wasted, agonising over nothing.

He’s an idiot.

“I’m yours,” Jake says, “If you’ll have me.”

Dirk presses forwards, tilts his head and kisses Jake. Savours the way it doesn’t crack him at the edges. Feels right. Feels whole.

Jake’s hands on his back, tugging him closer.

His heart, finally, finally, mending.

 


End file.
